


cuddle up and go to sleep, you idiot

by your_bus_driver



Series: psych fics because why not [1]
Category: Psych
Genre: Comfort, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, I thought they would call each other insults affectionately, Lassie is in touch with his feels, Late Night Writing, M/M, Nicknames, Shawn is emotionally constipated, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, They watch Cops and Lassie waxes about existentialism, like dork or idiot or loser, softies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 22:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bus_driver/pseuds/your_bus_driver
Summary: turns out sick lassie is as talkative as drunk lassie, and as depressed.***"Hey, can I borrow something?" Lassie asked."It's your house. What do you need to borrow?""Your space heater of a body. I'm freezing."





	cuddle up and go to sleep, you idiot

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during NaNoWriMo, and edited at 1 in the morning. Hope you enjoy!

“Hey, can I borrow something?” Lassie asked, coming out of the kitchen. He sounded all sniffly and cute and Shawn was having heart palpitations.

“It’s your house. What do you need to borrow?”

“Your space heater of a body. I’m freezing.” Lassie looked adorable with his well loved flannel pj’s and his messy salt and pepper hair. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his scruff was making Shawn swoon. 

“Yeah, come here and snuggle up,” Shawn said, leaning back. “You can put your head in my lap.”

“Do you have a sick fetish, because honestly I’m not in the mood.” Lassie shuffled into the living room, where Shawn was paging though Lassie’s DVR. 

“Don’t be a wet sweater sleeve, Loser. I just want to pet your hair.” Shawn laughed, ”We can watch something like cop, or that new cooking show. I think it has Guy Fieri in it which is always fun.” 

“I don’t care, Twerp. I’ll probably fall asleep anyway.”

“Do you have your tissues? Get them before you sit down.”

“Got um.” Lassie pulled out a fistful of used ones and sank into the couch cushions. He was like a little noodle. 

“No, gross. I’m getting you some new ones. Want anything else while I’m up?” 

“The remote.” 

“Sure,” He said handing it over, no matter how painful it was. 

The box of tissues that was usually in Lassie’s bathroom had been moved into the bedroom. He also grabbed some tylenol and orange juice, and got back to the couch in time for Lassie to put on Cops. 

Setting the supplies on the coffee table, Shawn sat back and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. “Come on,” 

Lassie shifted around and snuggled up; his head resting against his thigh, and his hand curled around his knee. 

“How are you feeling?” Shawn asked, tucking them both in the best he could. 

“Tired,” He said thoughtfully. “But I’ve been worse.”

“Yeah, when?”

“When I was shot.” Lassie yawned with his eyes closed, which was too cute.

“Well obviously, dork.” Shawn rolled his eyes, running his hand through Lassie’s short hair. It was more spiky than soft. He wondered what his beard felt like when he grew it out. He’d only seen it once in an old picture but he wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it, to see what it felt like against his cheek, or against his chest.

“And overwhelmed.” Lassie said quietly.

“Why?” Shawn paused his hand.

“Because everything is sad and I’m sick and life kinda sucks. Except for you and Jules… and other stuff that I can't remember right now.” 

“The gun range.” 

Lassie sighed, gesturing to the TV. “Look at all these scumbags. There are so many crappy people in the world. Like really bad people.”

“Okay, how about we turn on that cooking show. That sounds like a good idea.” Shawn sing-songed, reaching for the remote.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Well, you said you didn't care and I’m in charge so we’re watching people cook and I’m going to get hungry and you're going to fall asleep. Then I’m going to raid your kitchen for food that’s not bland or healthy.”

“There are some oreos in the pantry, moocher.”

“Thanks,” Shawn said quietly. He lowered the TV volume a bit.

They watched people run around with shopping carts for a while. Lassie was all stuffed out so he was wheezing, which ordinarily be boring, but he was adorable so he couldn’t care. He had started to feel heavier, leaning against him. His breathing was slower. Shawn thought he was asleep, and was about to catch himself a few Z’s when he spoke again. 

“How do you do it?”

“How do I do what?” Shawn asked but he was pretty sure he knew what they were talking about.

“Everything. How are you just so… you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re just happy, and confident, and warm. But like personality wise, not like body wise, even though you are that too.” Lassie scratched his cheek, “You don’t let anything get to you. You just seem like you have it all figured out.”

“Sure I do.” Shawn huffed. Who knew sick Lassie was like drunk Lassie? Just as bitter and sad. 

“No, you just roll with it. You’re never down. This world is just so much and the job is full of so much sadness and I’ve never seen you frown. Like there’s fake frowns that you do but I’ve never seen you for real frown. Or cry.”

“Well that’s because when I’m with you I’m happy.” Shawn said.

Lassie shuffled, and resetelled so he was looking up at Shawn. Shawn’s hand which stopped moving rested against Lassie’s cheek.

“Just how do you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just try and stay positive. There's no point in feeling down when it gets you nowhere.”

“But doesn’t that get old. You need to let that stuff go not pickle it.”

“I let go. I do. I just don’t always need to cry.”

“I guess. But like, if you need to you can. It’s like, normal and stuff.”

“I guess.” Shawn said. This was not where he thought this conversation had been going. “I bed you cried during the Notebook? Gus lost it. He had to go out for smoothies after to chill him out. That was not a good Valentine's day.”

“I haven’t seen it. But I did cry during that one movie with Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Titanic?” Shawn asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I think so. That’s the one with the water right.” Lassie’s eyes were starting to close.

"Mmhmm." 

“It’s unnatural for people to not cry.”

“Where’s this coming from? All those years in couples counseling?”

“You just seem like you’re holding back. And it’s kinda weird, you know. You’re just too happy.”

“And you’re the model of emotional health? You snapped at McNab the other day for asking if you were okay. You sneezed so hard you almost knocked yourself out on your desk. Even I considered breaking my old-Shawn-who-only-messes-with-Lassie routine and feel your forehead like a sitcom mother.” 

“I’m the right amount of happy. I have a balance. Life needs balance.” Lassie grumbled.

“Are you my boyfriend or my therapist?” 

“I’m your boyfriend who is concerned about you.”

“I’m fine.” Shawn said, looking back at the TV, hoping cuddly Lassie would stop the interrogation. For someone out of their mind, he was still a skilled sleuth. 

“Sure. Just know I’m here for you,” Lassie said, shifting again. He patted his knee. “And you’re here for me. What are you a furnace?”

“Well, I am hot. Hot damn. Call the police and the fireman.”

Lassie pinched his thigh. Shawn yelped.

“No need, I’m already here, moron” Lassie grinned, with his eyes closed. 

“Whatever, softie.” Shawn smiled and leaned back. Hopefully normal Lassie will be back in the morning, even though he didn’t mind the cuddles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos fill me with joy!


End file.
